


Startling Realizations

by afteriwake



Series: Simple As It Should Be [10]
Category: CSI: NY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 12:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He vaguely remembers things about last night but he <i>distinctly</i> remembers asking her to stay. <i>That</i> part's not hazy at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Startling Realizations

His throat hurt. Before he could figure if he's got a headache or if it's too bright or just where the hell he is, he realized his throat feels like it got packed with cotton. He opened his eyes, saw his bookshelves and TV, and then it slammed back into him. 

Drinks. Lots of drinks, at a bar that wasn't Sullivan's. With Maka. He didn't remember everything...hell, he barely remembered most of the night. He rememberd her helping him into his apartment, though. He rememberd grabbing her wrist, wanting her to stay.

And he remembers the last thing she said before she locked up and left.

_"You want Lindsay here, not me."_

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. Thank God Mac had told him not to come in today; his head was throbbing and felt just as stuffed with cotton as his throat did. He kicked off his shoes and padded barefoot into his kitchen for water, aspirin...food if he could handle it. Coffee, too. Maybe.

Why would he have asked her to stay if... Was he misreading things? Oh, yeah, he'd gotten into a fistfight with Flack over Lindsay so assuming he would rather be with Lindsay than... Yeah, that made more sense.

He shook his head and turned on the faucet. That last string of thoughts, really, made absolutely no sense. Or it wouldn't to anyone else. He ran it over and over in his head for a minute, water still running, till it hit him.

Maka had taken him out to get him drunk. To be there for him. And from what he could remember, he'd seen the looks on her face and knew bitching about lost opportunities with Lindsay was going to hurt her, so he didn't.

He planted both hands on the sink and stared out the window at the apartment complex across from his. The years of flirting, the teasing, the fact he was the only one she'd let get away with calling her Kaile (even if she acted like she hated it)...

She. Liked. Him. And not just as a co-worker or friend, either. She honest to God _liked_ him.

Holy shit. And he'd just shoved her aside when Lindsay had shown up. Not only did he feel like an idiot, he felt like a louse now, too. He hung his head and groaned. Great. As if things needed to be any more complicated.

Well, he thought as he absently turned the faucet off, forgetting all about the need for aspirin or food for the moment, he could do one thing. He could, at least, get to know her a little better away from work. If things were going to head down that road, then, that's where they went...if not, maybe he could at least get a friendship back. As he headed towards his bedroom to get some actual rest, he started to come up with a semblance of a plan.

\---

Hours of sleep left him with a new perspective on things. He picked up his cell phone the minute he woke up; he knew Maka's number was in there, he just had to find it. Once he had it, he hit the send button.

She picked up after a few rings. "Maka."

"I'm still alive."

"That's good to know."

"I've been stuck here all day."

"Why's that?"

"You took my keys with you."

She paused. He could hear her digging around in her pockets, and he heard the familiar jingle of his keys. "Damn. Messer, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Can you bring them over here?" He cleared his throat. "I'd meet you somewhere to get them, but..."

"Yeah, I can bring them over when I get off work."

"You think you might have time to talk a bit, maybe?"

"Um...maybe."

"After last night, I feel I at least owe you something. You got me home in one piece. Let me make it up to you."

"It's not necessary, really."

"It is to me."

"Okay...how about dinner or something? Tonight was going to be leftovers anyway."

"Meet me here when you get off work and we can head out somewhere."

"All right."

He hung up and looked at the phone. There had been a friendship between them before things got messed up. First step in fixing whatever it was that had changed between them was rebuilding that friendship.

He figured he was going to need at least one friend to get through life for the next few weeks or months...


End file.
